Scars And Curves
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: Lavender had scars. Pansy hid behind her curves. Maybe they weren't what they wanted to be, but they were who they were.


Written for **Astronomy** (Write about someone who cannot see their own beauty, be it inner beauty or outer beauty. Extra Prompt: Mirror)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything as usual

-oOo-

Lavender had once been as vain as could be. She knew she was pretty and she was going to flaunt that for all she could get. She had had the hair, the nails, the perfect curves and flawless face. Boys had drooled behind her when she walked through the halls.

All that was gone now.

The scars that ran along her cheek and down her neck still looked rough. It had been several months since she had been attacked by Greyback. Several months since the disease had touched her. She was thankful that at least the bite mark on her torso was always covered. People assumed that she was what she was, but she didn't need to give them any conformation.

The door to the dorm room opened and Lavender looked away from the mirror. She wasn't surprised to see Pansy Parkinson standing in the doorway, towel around her body and her hair dripping wet. Left over steam was trickling out around her feet.

Seeing her didn't throw Lavender off. The two had been among the many to return to make up their seventh year, and after sharing a dorm for two months they had gotten used to each other. Weren't on friendly terms, but were at least civil.

"You gunna keep looking at that mirror or take a shower?" Parkinson asked, already walking towards her bed.

Lavender didn't respond to the question. She dropped the hand held mirror onto her dresser and adjusted herself on her bed. The sweater she had on was two sizes too big. Her sweats were tied tight to keep them from falling off. Her hair was down, covering up the side of her face where the scars were. To anyone looking into the room, she didn't look special or remarkable. She didn't feel special or remarkable.

"Damn girl," Pansy turned, glaring at the Gryffindor. "Are you going to sit in that bed and mop all day or what? Because I do things to do, and looking after your moppy arse isn't one of those things."

Lavender looked her way, making sure to keep the hair covering the scarred side of her face. Pansy was staring her down, her chin turned up and her gaze solid. Water dripped from that shiny black hair of hers. The water slowly trailed down her throat and over the exposed section of her breast. The towel covering her body was small and Lavender had a good idea what the girl was sporting. She remembered when she looked that good. When she was that beautiful.

When Lavender didn't respond, Pansy shrugged and went back to rutting through her clothes.

Lavender turned her gaze away, looking back at the mirror. Its reflective glass was facing her. She could see the end of her scars in the glass.

"No one notices them," Pansy spoke up. She hadn't turned from her clothes. "Those scars of yours. I mean, people did at first. They noticed. They talked. This is school after all. But your old news. No longer priority gossip. I mean, everyone has a scar or two from the last few years. I've got one on my lower back. Some Death Eater was camped at my house that summer. Felt that he should have his way with me. He didn't get very far in that endeavor. He might have gotten a scar in, but I left him bleeding between his legs so I won."

Lavender only stared in confusion and wonder. She was used to the strange ways this girl talked, but the presence of Pansy Parkinson was still something she was getting used to.

Throwing a skirt onto the bed, she slipped a pair of knickers onto her body before dropping her towel. Lavender looked away, but not before catching the smirk the Slytherin sent.

"But seriously Brown, get over yourself."

It was that sentence that caused her to snap. She narrowed her eyes and growled. "How dare you. You don't know me so don't talk like you do."

Pansy was clasping her bra when she turned fully to the girl. She stood there, hands on her hips and a frown on her lips. "You got scars, Brown. Stop sitting around and sulking because your perfect skin isn't perfect anymore."

Lavender growled in response. Actually growled. She placed her hand over her lips, mortified that the sound came from her.

Pansy's brow rose at the noise but she didn't make mention of it. "I forgot I was dealing with a Gryffindor here. I have to phrase things simply for you. A scar is a scar. Those marks don't make you. They don't define you. You define them. So stop giving them power. Stop letting those scars define you."

"They're not just scars," Lavender pressed back. She pulled her hair from her face, and in a mirror across the room, she could see the discoloration they made against her skin. "They're an infection. A curse. They're not some little cut that I can cover up and move on from. They are a part of me. An awful, ugly, hideous part of me.'"

Pansy's face softened at that point. Sighing as if the whole conversation was exhausting to her, Pansy crossed the room. She dropped onto the bed just inches from where Lavender had balled herself. She sat cross legged, the undergarments she wore provided just enough covering to shield the sensitive areas. Up close, Lavender could really see the perfection that was Pansy Parkinson's body. She felt even worst now that she had that to compare herself to.

"Listen Brown, and listen well because I know you Gryffindor's are dense, but I will only say this once." Pansy narrowed her eyes at her until the other girl nodded. "You are a pretty girl. Beautiful even some might say. And not just for the way you look. You're tough. Strong will. Hard headed. And always ready to speak your mind. If you ask me, those traits are what make you beautiful not the way you look. Looks really don't matter in the grand scheme."

"Easy for you to say." Lavender motioned towards Pansy's body. "I mean look at you. You're freaking gorgeous."

There was something that passed through Pansy's eyes that Lavender sympathized with.

"Being pretty will only get you so far. A pretty face means nothing when you don't know anything, if you don't believe in anything. If you don't mean anything. Being pretty is easy. Being someone is much harder."

There was silence there for a moment as the two girls regarded each other. They sat there, taking each other in and reflecting how much they treasured what the other girl had. Pansy had a body and face that Lavender would kill for. In contrast, Lavender had freedom and opportunities that Pansy had given up to please her mother and her ideals of a perfect wife.

"You're beautiful, Pansy," Lavender spoke first. There was a smile starting on her lips that hadn't been there in months. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Pansy's smirked softened. Reaching across the bed, she picked up the little mirror. Turning to herself, she pushed her hair behind her ear and smoothed out her eyebrow before turning the reflective side onto Lavender. "As are you Brown. Scars and annoying personality and all."

Lavender took the mirror, and looked at herself closely. One half still looked the same as always. Large eyes, thin brows, full lips and softly browned skin. The other had harsh lighter scars trailing from just below her eyes to around her chin. She still looked relatively the same. Even if she didn't feel that way.

But Pansy was right, wasn't she? Maybe it didn't matter. She was still everything she loved about herself. Scars didn't change that fact. She was still Lavender Brown, top bitch and unbreakable stance.

Lavender set the mirror down, no longer needing to look into it. She realized that whatever image the mirror sent back at her, didn't matter. She was beautiful in and of herself in all the ways that mattered.

"Thank you, Pansy." Lavender reached out, taking the Slytherin's hand. She half expected her to pull away. She didn't. "I really needed that."

Pansy squeezed her hand. "You're welcome, but don't mention it. You Gryffindors are so needy. Always with the constant reassurance. Someone's got to hold your hand to cross the street."

Lavender laughed and Pansy joined in a second later. They sat there, two girl who would have torn the other's hair out only a few years ago. But they had bonded over the crushing need to be beautiful in this world. Something they were slowly starting to realize that they didn't need.

Society's ideal of beauty had none nothing for either of them. They were making their own definition for the word beauty.

"Umm Pansy," Lavender chuckled, "would you maybe put some clothes on? Not that I mind, but you're wet and sitting on my bed."


End file.
